


Legend

by MissyRivers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arc Reactor Angst, Because it's Tony and Steve, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Guilt-ridden Tony, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Jarvis breaks the rules when he needs to, Little bit of sass, Mentions of canon-compliant violence, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Song fic, Steve Is a Good Bro, Tony Has Issues, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark-centric, What'd you expect?, background Tony/Pepper, drunken rant, he also has good taste in music, he wasn’t drunk for 2 straight days, lots of cussing, ok it's a lot of sass, so many issues, tony is an alcoholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyRivers/pseuds/MissyRivers
Summary: Tony paused. He normally didn’t even hear what the screaming lyrics were saying, preferring to let the music sweep over him and force out any thoughts that didn’t pertain to inventing. But something about these pulled at him...





	Legend

**Author's Note:**

> AHM1121 sent me a song (she's sent me many) and this one - Legend by The Score - screamed Tony to me, but neither one of us has written a Tony-centric fic before...so...somehow I did anyway? Ya, idk how it happened either, guys, but HERE YOU GO!!! It for damn sure wouldn't've happened without the idea from her and then her invaluable help beta-ing and kicking my ass to actually post this instead of just sitting on it forever. Love ya, lady!

“Ok Jarvis, pull up the schematics on the latest baby, lets see how she’s ticking. Projected time to completion?” Tony fiddled absently with some bits and bobs on the table in front of him, fitting some pieces of metal together more to feel the connection happen than to build anything.

“The Mark 6 will be completed within the hour, Sir. Your preferred paint-job will add another three, if you wish to wait.”

“Since when do I ever? I need something to sink my teeth into - how’s the 7 calculations? Pull up some music J, I can hear myself thinking and it echoes.”

“Very well, Sir. A playlist in particular?”

“Some alternative, but rock, thumping, you know? Take your pick, you know what I like.”

“Indeed.”

_Here we go, here we go_  
_It's about time that we set it off_  
_Here we go, here we go_  
_Red lights, I could never stop_  
_A dreamer with the fever to be great was all I ever want, was all I ever wanted_  
_A finder with the fever for the fame was all I ever want, was all I ever wanted_

Tony paused. He normally didn’t even hear what the screaming lyrics were saying, preferring to let the music sweep over him and force out any thoughts that didn’t pertain to inventing. But something about these pulled at him...

 

_________________________________

 

Steve waited cautiously in the descending elevator. Jarvis had asked him to come down, saying that Tony was acting more rashly than normal, and would he please get him to bed? Once it stopped, Steve reached to the embedded panel typing in his security code, but the panel turned red, and Steve frowned, puzzled. “Jarvis? I thought I was cleared for this floor.”

“Yes sir, I’m afraid Mr. Stark has shut the level down and blocked all access. If you will give me one moment, I will bypass the programming. Please place your hand on the panel there...thank you. Now type in 0704...very good sir, you may now enter.”

“My birthday J? Even I know better than that.” Steve smirks to himself.

“I may have needed to invent a passcode for this matter at a moments notice, Captain. Creativity was not my main concern, and as the code has already been deleted from my system, I am hardly worried.” The prim voice sounds mildly annoyed, but Steve doesn’t take offense, still grinning at the properness of the A.I.

“OK, J. Where’s Tony?” Steve swivels his head and cocks an ear, hearing the faint strains of music from the hall to his left. Surmising that, where there’s noise, there’ll be Tony, he starts off that way, Jarvis not bothering to point out what he’d already figured out for himself. Far down the hall, at a door set up right in the corner, is another key pad. This one turns green as he approaches, so Steve pushes the door open slowly and peers in.

Immediately, Steve winces. The soundproofing on this room must’ve been designed by Tony, because with the opening of the door music pounded out of the room and filled the hallway. Steve could actually feel his molars vibrating with the force of the bass. Squinting (because obviously closing his eyes would help block the sound), he spotted Tony sitting on a stool by a raised glass workbench, looking morosely into a glass with a few fingers of an amber liquid and ice cubes in it. Steve could smell the alcohol without crossing the threshold, and he spared a thought for Tony’s liver.

Looking up, Steve made a slashing movement across his neck, and the music abruptly cut off. The shock of the sudden descent of thundering silence jolted Tony, who wildly started out of his seat. “What the fuck...oh, hey Rogers. Come to join me? Pull up a seat, grab a drink, I know it won’t affect you, but this whiskey is older than you are, surely you’ll feel in good company if nothing else.” The brunette walked over to a liquor cart off to one side, littered with opened bottles, most of which were nearly empty.

“Tony, how much have you had to drink?”

“Within what time frame?”

Steve grumbled under his breath. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Depends, what day is it? Tuesday? Doesn’t matter. J, start the music back up, I was really getting into it.” Tony waved his hand negligibly.

“Sir, you have sat thru over nine hundred repetitions of this song. May I suggest you get a few hours rest before beginning again?” Jarvis’ patience apparently knew no bounds. A quick bit of mental math had Steve raising his eyebrows.

“You’ve been listening to one song for two days? Tony, come on, that’s enough. Let’s get you up to your floor, eat something, maybe a quick shower, and get you to bed.”

“That’s moving fast Cap, I’ll have you know I’m, how did you say it a hundred years ago, a classy dame? No, thank you, I’ll think I’ll stay here with Hennessy and Captain Morgan, the truly superior captain I must say, hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings, but they have yet to try and get me undressed, so I think I prefer their company.”

“Tony. This isn’t healthy. Wha-”

Tony burst over Steve, clearly done with talking, standing up and walking back to the stool he’d been slumped in when Steve came in, taking both his newly filled drink and the one he’d poured ostensibly for Steve with him. “J, start the song again. Lower the sound for the delicate ears of our guest though, would ya pal?”

“Very well, Sir.” A much quieter version of the song picked up, and Steve hunched over, deciding to humor Tony for a few moments, try and get him calm and more willing to listen.

“What’s the song, Tony?”

“Something J picked out. He needs a raise, knew just what would appeal to me.” Tony looked into the middle distance, and Steve felt the first serious stirring of worry in his gut. “The song is quite...apt.” He scowled and took a long pull from his glass before standing and starting to pace.

“Listen to the lyrics. Fuck, I should sue the bastards who wrote this, it’s gotta be defamation or something, Pepper’d know. ‘The fire’s a weapon.’ I used a fucking flamethrower to get outta that cave, first weapon I was ever seen to use as Iron Man. And what’s a flame but a violent side effect of an explosion? Or just an explosion on a molecular level. ‘Red lights, I could never stop.’ I never took no for an answer. Hell, I still don’t. ‘A dreamer with a fever’ if that isn’t obvious enough…I get an idea in my head, and when don’t I, and I’ve got to get it out, it burns like a fever, in my head, in my heart, it eats at me until I get it out. ‘To be great was all I ever wanted.’ Ya Steve, that’s all I ever wanted. To show up my old man, be “great” in his eyes. My fucking old man.”

Tony pauses to take a long drink, finishing his glass and swirling the ice left in the bottom. “You were good buddies, back in the day. Ever see his dark side, Stevie, or just the manic genius scientist? I know you said I remind you of him. You’ve seen my darkness. Ever wonder where I got it? ‘A finder with the fever for the fame was all I ever wanted.’ You don’t listen too close, ‘finder’ sounds like ‘father’, and wasn’t that a trip to hear. I was so fucking focused on the fame of it all. ‘Bang bang bang bang bang bang - let’s fire the weapon.’” Tony laughs. “I’m the merchant of death. Lots of weapons fired. You hear about the Winchester house, Steve? Guy who invented the gun, he and his son and granddaughter all died one after the other, daughter-in-law went nuts. Was told she was cursed by all the souls of people killed by her husband’s family’s guns. Fuck,” Tony rubs his bloodshot eyes, “I’ve gotta have killed exponentially more people in my time, don’t even need to add in Howards’. ‘Won’t stop till we’re legends’...we are, aren’t we? Stark Industries is always gonna be connected to weapons, no matter how many sources of free energy I make, no matter how many charities I fund, scholarships I pay for, funeral fees I cover, or times I save the damn world…”

Tony throws his glass in rage, picks up a new full one and drains it. “Howard died, and it was my fucking turn! ‘It's my turn to make history, when I'm gone they'll remember me’. Oh, they’ll remember me all right. Avenger fighting to get the red out of my ledger, as our lovely assassin puts it. How much red is in mine, hmm? You wanna take a guess at the thousands, Cap? The millions? How many more will die? How many…” He trails off, jaw clenched. “And it’s all a useless effort. ‘Blood, sweat, I'll break my bones till all my scars bleed golden, my name's forever known, bang bang, won't stop till we're legends.’ I’ll go down in history as the guy who gave his last fucking breath, broke every bone in his body, put poison in it to keep his heart going, trying to buy enough time to fix things, golden intentions, for what? Nothing. Cause there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Fighting isn’t helping, it’s just more blood. Evil blood, ok sure, but what’s evil - I’ve been the monster under the bed for kids all over the world - how am I not on my own watch list? Talk about a legend.” He laughs bitterly, slumping in his seat, rolling his head to avoid Steve’s steady gaze.

“Come on, Tony. There’s no use talking to you while you’re like this. But we _will_ be talking about this. Let’s get you to bed.” Steve gently coaxes Tony out of his lab, the smaller man easy to manhandle despite his flailing, seeming to go totally lax once Steve had his arm in a firm but not pinching grip.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Put a ban on that song, please.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what'd y'all think? Tony's mouth runs a mile a minute, writing his drunken guilt-ridden rant was a hell of a thing X.X let me know your thoughts if you have the time and inclination :) constructive criticism is, as always, appreciated, provided it is done nicely <3


End file.
